The rest of her words were a choppy mess while I raced around the room. Every last syllable.
Massive head-on collision.
Water on the roadway.
Semi-truck driver fell asleep at the wheel.
Impact at 70 miles per hour.
Loss of control.
Adam’s work truck careening over the side of a cliff.
I quickly blew out the candles and grabbed my jacket before fumbling through a stack of papers and knickknacks on the counter. “Where are they?” A jingling sound chimed as I located his spare keys under a stack of mail. Like old times.
Every second felt like hours and I moved in slow-motion. Dense rain fell while ferocious gusts of wind pummeled me sideways. In all of my years as a Steele Falls resident, I’d never experienced a storm of that magnitude. Puddles splashed and the wet earth squished as my feet connected with the ground on my way to his old pickup truck. Icy water soaked through my shoes and socks, numbing my toes instantly. I didn’t care. It took three tries to greet the ignition with the key. With blunt force, I slammed the gear shifter in reverse, fishtailing down the road like a race car driver.
My thumb tapped the steering wheel nervously while my stomach tied itself in endless knots. The hospital was thirty minutes away, and my mind was left to reel. Concentrating was near impossible. Visibility was poor as rain battered the windshield, the wipers barely able to keep up with the blurry smears of water on the glass.
All I could think about was getting to the hospital. The fastest route. Not knowing what was going on was the worst, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cry, scream, or climb out of my own skin. Most of the drive along the side streets was intense as the air whipped through the trees, bullying the truck to the right. I struggled to stay in the lane, the muscles in my forearms clenched tight. The street lights made it difficult to see the faded lines on the road, which didn’t help my cause.
I pushed the pedal harder, the odometer hovering at almost sixty miles an hour when I shouldn’t have been exceeding twenty-five. Logic told me it wasn’t safe and I risked getting pulled over, but my heart spoke louder, telling me to hurry. “Why is it taking me so long to get there?” In the back of my mind, I wondered if it was how Adam felt as he raced to me the night he got the DUI.
One flicker of that flashback was all it took to disrupt my focus from what I approached. Flashing lights. Flares. A blur of red, white, and blue blips. It was barely enough to illuminate what the surroundings because of the brightness. I’d taken too long pull back into the present and focus on what was happening in front of me. With a desperate plea, I jammed my foot on the brake. Nothing happened and my heart thudded.
“No. I don’t want you out driving around in this wind. Besides, the brakes are nearly shot on the rust-bucket in the driveway,” he replied. “But, I’m going to say something before we hang up. I love—”
A terrified sob emitted from my mouth. I pushed both feet on the brake time and time again, mashing it into the floor with everything I had. The needle had only slowed to fifty-six, and that was because I wasn’t touching the accelerator. The mishap ahead between two smaller cars at the bottom of the massive hill on First and Olive was becoming alarmingly close.
Panic set in.
The truck started its the descent, gaining speed quickly. It hydroplaned where the ground leveled out halfway down before angling downward again. I screamed and spun the steering wheel to the right, desperately trying to avoid the oncoming accident. Instead, I was about to create one of my own. I screamed as the truck turned sideways, the severe movement causing it to flip on its side and roll down the remainder of the hill. It felt as if I were in a washing machine, the spin cycle out of control. My head smashed into the driver’s side window, rainbow-colored bursts exploding behind my eyes. Metal crunched and scraped along the pavement, a sound so deafening as the truck folded around me. It finally slowed, resting on its top while a power pole fell toward the window, resulting in one tumultuous thud and more glass crunching. I fought to open my eyes. What looked like fireworks exploded outside the window. A jolt zapped me and my body tensed. White-hot, searing pain took hold of my mind, body, and soul, ending in an inhuman scream. Everything went black.
* * *
My eyes were so heavy, thoughts like cotton candy swirling inside my head. None of them connected. Tired. “Adam?” I mouthed. Forcing my eyes to open, I focused on my surroundings. Everything smelled medicinal and sharp in my nose. I stood in a hospital room, a dark-haired girl lying lifeless in the bed nearby. Machines clicked and beeped around her, all of them unfamiliar to me. Fuzzy. Who is she? Her face was swollen beyond recognition. A black eye. Two lacerations above her forehead. Countless burns and abrasions. A long trickle of blackened blood had dried near each of her ears. Three fingernails were missing.
I watched as a flurry of nurses and doctors scurried around the room, directing others, like an orchestrated tornado before they left again. It made me wonder what happened. What could put her in such a dire situation? Clothing had been cut from her body, and a jagged piece of metal impaled her left bicep. Her skin was abnormally pale in the few patches that weren’t a searing red. Seizing. Shaking.
“Help her!” I screamed. “Can’t someone hear me?” But nothing happened. No one reacted to the sound of my voice.
Someone needed to fix her. Fast. I made my way into the hall where a woman stood. She looked like someone I once knew, but I couldn’t remember her name.
“Do you know who I am or what my last name is?” she demanded. “I want to see my daughter right now.”
A nurse remained calm as she spoke in hushed tones. “Elana, we’re doing everything we can for her, but she’s sustained serious injuries. You’re best suited to stay in the waiting room until we have an update.”
Elana! That was her name. The momster. What was she doing in the hospital? Was it Daveigh? The baby?
My mom threw her arms up in the air as she demanded to be heard.
A younger woman rushed over and wrapped an arm around Elana’s shoulder, leading her down the hall to an open seating area. Thank God! Daveigh appeared to be okay. Shit. Was it Finn?
I’d never seen so much emotion, outside of anger, on the momster’s face before. Her lips trembled while her eyes glistened with tears.
“Oh, God.” Elana raised her hand to her mouth as she sank onto a chair. “They don’t know she’s pregnant. The baby.” She forced herself to her feet. “I have to tell the doctors.”
What baby? There’s another baby?
Terror flooded Daveigh’s face as she grabbed Elana’s arm to stop her. “Mommy, don’t.”
“Now isn’t the time.” She yanked her arm away. “This is important.”
“Blue’s not pregnant.” Daveigh looked down at the floor and my heart ached as I watched, unable to help explain or console them.
“What do you mean? Of course, she is. I found the test.”
“No, Mommy. The test isn’t Blue’s. It’s mine.” Her face contorted into pained shame.
“You? Wait.” Elana blinked and shook her head. “Why wouldn’t you…”
“Because you scare me,” Daveigh replied, tears streaming down her face. “All of us are terrified of you. Blue said she was pregnant, so I wouldn’t have to deal with your reaction.”
Elana swallowed hard. “I’ll be back.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said. Blue isn’t the one who’s pregnant!” Daveigh sobbed.
The momster approach the nurse’s station, determination on her face. “I want to speak to the head of the hospital. Right now.”
Like sun breaking through the clouds, a fog lifted. It may have taken me longer than anyone else, but I realized who laid on the hospital bed down the hall.
It was me.
* * *
I walked down a corridor, hurrying to locate my mom. After four tries, I finally found her. She sat on a leather couch, wringing her hands. Like always, she wore a sensible knee-length skirt and blazer.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Elana. It’s been chaotic around here, and we’re understaffed. What can I do for you?” The name placard on her desk read: “Andrea Marks – Dean of Medicine.”
“My daughter—”
“I’ll stop you right there. You know I’m not at liberty to discuss the condition of patients who are over the age of eighteen without consent, medical release, or a POA. Do you have any of those with you?”
“No, but…” Elana straightened out her skirt. “Look, I know she has massive injuries, broken bones, lacerations, and a punctured lung. She was electrocuted and the truck was struck by lightning, which Dr. Kline already told me.”
“Then you already know far more than you should.” Andrea tightened her lips. “And perhaps I should have a chat with Dr. Kline to revisit our confidentiality policies.”
My mother’s voice intensified. “What I do know is the condition of this hospital is under scrutiny. Its future is uncertain if something doesn’t happen soon in regard to cash flow. It doesn’t take a crystal ball to illustrate that. I’ve seen the reports.”
The head of the hospital folded her hands on her desk and looked at my mother. “Did you come here to tell me the fate of the building or did you want something else?”
“Save. My daughter.”
She let out a deep breath and placed the cap back on the pen she held. “There are HIPAA rules, and I shouldn’t even be discussing this with you right now.” She got up to ensure the door was fully closed. “Blue underwent a lot of stress during the accident. Her heart is considerably weak.”
“How…weak?”
“With her laundry list of injuries, it isn’t functioning properly without the support of the machines she’s hooked up to.”
My mother covered her mouth with a shaky hand, her eyes closing. “Well, the answer is clear as day to me. Find her a new one.”
The Dean of Medicine rubbed her temples. “It’s not that simple, Elana. Human hearts aren’t available in a vending machine for $1 apiece in the nurse’s station. There are rules. A transplant list. Strict protocols. Paperwork. Regions across the United States. Whoever fits the criteria and is at the top of that list is eligible and has first option.”
“This is my daughter here, Andrea. Do something.”
“I understand that, but my hands are tied. This is a hospital, not a negotiating board to prove how far up the political ladder you’re sitting.”
“What if I told you I had access to money? Five million dollars. A sum like that’d do wonders for your uncompensated care program and would ensure you more time to try and save your beloved hospital. Jesus, keep it for yourself. I’ll never know.”
Andrea hesitated.
“Your job is on the line next quarter. We both know there isn’t another care center in the area, and no one can get in or out of this town with this storm. It’s been two days. Bridges are unsafe. Parts of the highway have eroded into the ocean. Cell services are sketchy. And helicoptering a heart out of Steele Falls is going to be risky as hell in weather like this. No one’s going to take that on. The road to Aberdeen and the 101 are washed out in multiple places. It’s all over the news.”
“It’s not ethical. Twenty people die each day waiting for a vital organ.”
My mother stood up and jabbed a finger toward the window. “Who gives a flying fuck about God damned ethics? Come on! Someone has to be close to kicking the bucket around here!”
Another round of thunder and lightning sounded outside, illuminating the room briefly. The dark shadows mingling with the brevity in bright lighting made my mother look like the Devil herself.
Andrea lowered her voice. “There have been eight traffic accidents in Steele Falls from this storm. Two are minor, three are severe, and three are critical.”
“And?” my mother asked.
“One of the critical ones, a John Doe, recently underwent a test on his brain stem reflexes. There’s no indication of higher brain function. The patient is currently undergoing a formal brain-death eval with a second physician. It’s not looking good.”
“Is that patient a donor…and a match to Blue?” My mother looked hopeful.
Andrea chuckled at Elana’s stupidity. “We don’t have confirmation on his name yet, whether he’s a donor or not, or whether he’s going to make it. Don’t get your hopes up. You’ve got a better chance of being struck by…sorry. Bad comparison considering the circumstances.”
My mother winced.
“Besides, to start there’s blood testing, HLA typing, and cross-match testing that have to occur. And that’s saying the results for the brain eval prove the patient won’t survive. He has to be a donor. Once the heart is removed, it has to be examined to determine whether it’s healthy enough. There are so many legalities and complications with what you’re asking me to consider…”
My mother sat there, still.
“Immunosuppressants haven’t been administered. She hasn’t undergone the required physical, emotional, or psychological testing. Discussing this is asinine.”
“How do you want her to undergo some of those tests? That’s what’s asinine.” My mother gestured toward the hallway. “How is that even possible when she’s unconscious!”
“Do you have any idea how much paperwork goes into this? The number of forms that need signatures? And the required approvals? Decisions like this are well aren’t my jurisdiction and—”
“I have no doubt you have the appropriate connections.”
“And the forms?”
“Forge them.”
“I could face jail time. Forgery is illegal, Elana.”
My mother nudged a pen across Andrea’s desk slowly. “It isn’t if you’re not caught.”
Everything went dark again.
* * *
I woke up and my eyes felt like they were coated with sand. Yet, it oddly didn’t hurt. Nothing did. The world was blurry and I was so tired. It was a momentary attempt. Keeping them open was impossibly exhausting.
I didn’t know the time.
I didn’t know the day.
I didn’t know the setting.
Wires and beeping machines surrounded me. Everything else was a thick, heavy blanket of nothingness.
In the distance, I could hear Daveigh’s voice and then a hand gripped mine. “Blue?” My sister’s voice was soft.
I tried to open my mouth, but realized there something keeping me from doing it. There was a tube in my throat. Speaking was impossible. What’s wrong with me?
“Can she hear us, Dr. Lee?” Daveigh asked.
A male voice replied, “No. The sedatives we use are strong, and she won’t come to until they wear off.”
“Don’t try to talk,” Daveigh shushed me anyway, although under the impression I couldn’t hear a word she said. “You were in a bad accident.”
I felt panic creeping through my veins. Wasn’t it all a dream? Please, let it have been a dream.
“It’s going to be okay though,” Daveigh’s voice wavered as she sniffled. “I promise. You won’t be able to talk for a little while because of the breathing machine. You’ve been sedated and in a coma for a while.”
Another voice sounded. One that was familiar and stern. “When will she be able to go home?” It was the momster.
“There are still too many extenuating factors to speculate,” Dr. Lee said. “Heterotopic procedures aren’t commonly performed.”
Heterotopic? What did that mean?
“You can’t give me an estimate?” my mother demanded.
Dr. Lee’s voice remained calm. “She’s not a car that underwent a simple oil change. Her heart was heavily damaged in the accident. And it was a one in a million shot everything aligned with the transplant. I don’t think you understand that.” He paused. “You should consider yourself one lucky woman.”
Aligned? What was wrong with my heart?
“It still baffles me,” Daveigh said. “I can’t believe the surgeon took a second heart and placed it on top of hers. The vessels and chambers can all connect? It’s crazy.”
What is she talking about?
Then, there was another voice I recognized. Finn. “What’s a damn miracle is one of the top cardiac surgeons works in this hospital.” The emotion in his voice intensified, “I’m going to change my flight. I can’t leave her in this condition. What if…”
Somber silence filled the air.
A pager beeped and Dr. Lee spoke, “That’s my cue, they need me in the OR. If you two need anything, they can help you at the nurse’s station down the hall.”
“Thank you,” Daveigh paused, “for everything.”
The door clicked shut.
Next, my mother spoke again. “It’s almost three, and I have a teleconference scheduled with Harold in five minutes. If she wakes up, don’t tell her about what happened to Adam.”
Wait. What’s wrong with Adam? I’m so confused, and everything’s hazy.
“And don’t you dare mention a word about the surgeon using his heart in the transplant to save her life. She’ll thank me for the strings I pulled someday.”
Adam? Adam who? Not my Adam. No! No, no, no!
My head tried to loll to the right and left. It couldn’t be.
I heard them wrong. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t do that to me. He’s a fighter! Keep fighting for me. For us!
My chest clenched, the sudden onset of pain tremendous.
Adam! Don’t you dare check out on me! Not now. Not after finding you again. After everything we’ve…
An endless beep sounded as the door burst open, the sound of many footsteps scurrying around. “Quick! She’s crashing!”